Hush, dear boy
by Request
Summary: Harry confronts Snape with a statement he would forever regret. "Sir, I think I may be in love with you." Snape loves him too much to agree. Hurt, angsty and dark. Very strong mature warning. Oneshot SSHP.


"Sir," You look at me with those emerald eyes. Perfect, dazzling eyes. Disgusting eyes. Why can't you leave me be? "I wanted to talk to you.." You finish lamely.

Pathetic. Beautiful.

"Leave, Potter." I snap at you, maybe a little too softly.

"Sir, I think... I think that I may be in love with you." You blurt out. Stupid fool. You don't know what you're getting yourself into.

"No, Potter. You're a sixteen year old boy with hormones running wild."

"I'm serious! Don't just brush it off! I love you."

"Silence!" I yell, fierce and strong. Leave me alone. Stop tearing this old man apart. You're killing me, boy. Stop killing me. "Foolish child."

"Severus..."

"Don't you dare use my first name!" I scream at him. You look so frightened, but you, being a foolish, loyal, loving Gryffindor, you persevere. Don't look at me that way. Don't use that tone. So soft and beautiful.

"I love you so much. Please, I'll do anything." You plead with me.

I know what I have to do. I hate myself for what I'm about to go through with. I'm the fool. Don't think. For you, Potter, I am willing to sacrifice my sanity, my dignity, my comfort, my joy, my pride but by far the most important thing I am willing to lose is you.

"Take off your clothes." I say with such a bitter tone, that you cower a little, but obey my command. So pretty. I wish things were different. So desperately. You fiddle with your belt buckle, trying to figure out what you did wrong. Distraught. I quickly cast a spell to undo it for you. Has to be over soon. Please be over soon.

Soon you're standing naked in front of me. Exposed, afraid,but still too brave to back down, to call for help, to run away. Shameful. God, Potter, how I wish you would run. Don't let me do this. Stop me. Please.

I wait for one more hoping moment, before pinning you roughly against the wall, pulling you into a vicious kiss. Tongue. Teeth. Hot breath. This is your fault. This is what you asked for. It isn't what you wanted, because I know Harry Potter better than that.

I curl my hands around your neck, passion, need taking over. I'm so lost in hate and love, I almost stop to kiss you tenderly, like you so deserve. I've wanted to kiss you for so long, why shouldn't I give you what you want? Because you mean so much more than that to me. Something so special. So wrong. So twisted.

You're gaining confidence now. Picking up a little. Still not brave enough to reach up and touch me with bare hands. Instead, they hang loosely at your side. Waiting. Still hopeful. But I won't let you. I'm so sorry, my dear. I must do this.

My lips leave yours, and travel to your neck, sucking, biting. Too rough, too hard. Too much to bear. How are you not screaming? Blood. Sweat. I can taste it in my mouth. Nails dig into your neck, leaving horrid marks. You make no noise. So strong, dear boy. It'll all be over soon. Don't break. It'll make it so much harder on me. I don't want you to break, but to feel this pain. This pain is just for you. It's the best gift I'll ever give.

I stop abruptly and push you to the ground. You're shaking. You're scared. Your fear is everywhere, it fills the room. Controls me. But still you made no noise. Finally, I unsheathe my semi-hard cock and point it at your face. I hate myself already. You look at me and try to slow your breathing. You so desperately want to get this right, to win me over. My dear boy, you've already won me over. You did long ago with those perfect emerald eyes. So beautiful below me, bobbing your head, child's mouth tightly closed around my hardening cock. I thrust into your inexperienced mouth. You almost gag when my length hits the back of your throat.

Poor, sweet boy. It'll all be over soon. I'll push you around just a little more, then let you leave.

You surprise me when your head pulls away, and you slowly prop yourself up on hands and knees. Like a little dog. God, boy. You can't be serious. Haven't I hurt you enough? Haven't you hurt me enough?

"Sir," You say shakily. "Please..."

I drop down so that I am on my knees too. So many thoughts racing through my mind. I hate you for making me do this. I hate myself even more. This is so wrong. So horrific. He hisses a little as I push one saliva-coated finger into your tight arse. You've clearly never done this before. A sharp intake of breath as the second goes in. You squirm, I hold you still with my free hand. I thrust my fingers in and out of you, scissoring, trying to get you used to it, even just a little. But you mustn't think I care about that.

I pull my fingers out and position my cock at your entrance. Take a breath, Severus. Close your eyes. It'll just be like every other cheap fuck you've ever had. Forget it's the boy. Forget he's hurt and scared and wants to leave.

I push in hard, and your eyes open wide, mouth open in pain. Oh God, what have I done? I feel you shaking violently below me, but maybe that's just me. I don't know who is more afraid. I want to stop, to apologise, to hold you, and to make it all better. Hush, dear. It'll be alright.

You write in pain as I pull back out and reluctantly thrust again, deeper this time. You make a small whimper, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me.

This is so wrong. Disgusting. Severus, this is a child! I suddenly feel sick, and feel bile rising in my throat, but I quickly swallow it back down.

Pouring my passionate guilt into my thrusts, I speed up, pounding hard into your tight heat. I don't enjoy it. I can't enjoy it. I barely even feel it. Numb. My whole body is numb, but my heart pounds and aches like it's been waiting for this moment to show it's resentment for all these years.

You're crying. Very softly, but it's there.

Close your eyes, Severus. Close your fucking eyes! I try to block out the soft hurt noises you makes with the drone of my self-loathing, but with little success. My mind is everywhere. Shock. Pain. Guilt. Fear. Hate. I'm going insane! I shut my eyes as tightly as I can, as I try to imagine the situation is different. I quicken the pace even more. I want this to be finished. Please, boy, let me finish and die. My nails cut into you, as I drag them along your skin, marking you with deep, bloody scratches. So wrong. I love you, boy. I love you so much. I thrust with all my remaining strength, and I release into you.

I pull out quickly and cast a hasty cleaning charm on myself. Mustn't think. Mustn't look. I can't resist though, and cast a quick glance in your direction. You're a horrific sight. Sobbing quietly to yourself, still on hands and knees, pooled in your blood and my seed. Sick.

I have never hated myself more. I deserve death. No, I deserve so much worse. I deserve your judgement. Your resentment. Your hate.

I'm too weak to go anywhere far, but I have to escape. The door on my left leads to a spare classroom, so I push the door weakly. Thank God it's unlocked. As soon as I'm through the door, I feel myself collapse against it, and sink into a sitting position.

But things will be alright soon enough. Once you've recovered, you'll tell Dumbledore, because you're the bravest boy I know. Dumbledore will get me fired and a lifetime in Azkaban. The whole Wizarding world will hate me, and you'll be even more of a hero. You'll find some beautiful girl who can love you, raise a family with you, and make you happy. And you'll forget me.

Only then will things be alright.

You deserve so much better than me. That's why this needed to happen. I'm sorry, my dear boy. But I love you far too much to let you be with old, tired, useless me. I am dangerous. I am wrong. I have done so much evil in my life already. I could not stand to taint you with a lifetime of me.

We'll both finally get what we deserve.

You deserve nothing but the finest, my love. I hope you live a perfect life, like you should.

The clock on the wall tells me an hour has past. You should be gone by now. For sure. I stand slowly, supporting myself with a nearby desk and walk shakily to the door. I turn the handle with a sigh. I'll miss you so much. I promise I'll think about you every day. I push the door with a gentle nudge.

You're still here. In the same spot I left you, still naked and dirty. I stare at you, stunned, before quickly turning to leave you alone again.

"Sir," You say shakily, bursting into a fresh wave of tears. I don't turn to face you, but stay quiet and still. All the emotions I just felt resurfacing. I prepare for you to scream at me, hate me, tell me to die.

"Sir," You repeat, gaining just a little strength and volume. "I-I still l-love you."

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A note from the Author-

My God, this was my most emotional story. It was so hard to write, as I would often have to stop because I found my fingers shaking, or myself crying. This may not be perfect, and it may not even be my best, but this story means a lot to me. I hope you can find it in your heart to tell me what you think of it, and I hope it has as much impact on you as it did on me.

If you don't review, or review anonymously, please know that I really appreciate that you took the time to read this.

~Request


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